


I.B.R.I.S.

by projectibris



Series: I.B.R.I.S. [1]
Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: 3packau, AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Everyone Is Gay, Gay/Trans Owen Grady, IBRIS, Owen's trans and gay so aay, Raptor Training, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-31 08:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectibris/pseuds/projectibris
Summary: 22 years after the infamous Isla Nublar Incident in 1993, the world revered dinosaur park - now Jurassic World - is open and running. Ingen’s newest project will require the participation of only the best minds at work. This is Owen Grady’s story.–This is a fanfic and passion project led by a huge fan of the Jurassic films! Based on my personal headcanons, an AU built on info from the wiki, and intense study of the Jurassic World film, I bring you The I.B.R.I.S. Project…This story is meant to capture Owen Grady’s past experiences as a worker on Isla Nublar, leading up the events of the fourth film in the franchise. Plot oriented and character driven, I hope this story proves to be an entertaining read!I’m very excited to share this story that I’ve been developing for almost 3 years now, but, of course, please feel free to share any questions or comments on the story.





	1. Chapter 1

_Owen Grady, recently out of the Navy, takes a trip to the infamous Isla Nublar._

* * *

 

A restless hours-long plane ride took place one Summer day. The young man’s ticket read June the 2nd, 2012, and after the weeks he’d spent packing and planning, he could only hope this job interview went well. 

Owen Grady stood at the baggage claim, exhausted and preparing himself to be only more so. It seemed, even after his plane landed and he was on his way to the island, he would have to fight crowds of people; after all, Isla Nublar was a popular vacation spot…  
  
Slow moving crowds made the security workers abrasive, which wasn’t the worst part of traveling, but certainly far from his favorite. However, the onset of various complications - such as being lost in the airport - drained him.  _At least they’re paying for the trip._  Owen thought, trying to put a positive spin on everything, despite how wrecked he felt physically.    
  
Next was a short walk across concrete and sand, to the dock. It wasn’t hard to notice the climate difference, which was far from what Owen was used to; the air got heavier and more humid the closer to the island he got. Along with already being tired, he felt as though his clothes were wet from the ocean breeze, and pulling against him as he strolled to the boat. 

It was white and blue, with a large trademarked “Jurassic World” decal on the side. The watercraft could hold hundreds, if you didn’t mind standing, and from what he could see, it seemed many people didn’t. He boarded along with excited families and couples, who were quite opaquely ecstatic for their days at the park.  
  
Once everyone got settled, it would be about 4 hours before they reached Isla Nublar. He took a few pictures of the water and sunset, before letting out a deep sigh, and leaning against the rails exhaustively. The boat chugged along, slowly but surely to it’s jungle island destination. 

Jurassic World, once in sight, was truly a sight to behold; enormous mountains and miles of jungle foliage built a sincerely wild looking atmosphere. But for as long as he’d been on the boat, he had time to go over what his purpose was for being here, 120 miles from the coast of Costa Rica. He could feel change on the horizon was no question, but there was no point in overthinking it either. Whatever Jurassic World or Ingen had to offer him would be welcomed. It was time to have a job he enjoyed, right? 


	2. Chapter 2

_Owen meets Ingen’s head of security, as well as three hatchlings that capture his heart._

* * *

 

The monotonous clicking of Owen’s boots hitting the floor echoed against the smooth white walls. The lights in the hall were too bright for his preference; surprisingly enough, they made him feel even more groggy.

The sun was lowering on the island’s horizon, and it was frustratingly clear that he’d spent all day looking for this place. After this and being lost at the airport, it seemed true that he was never all that good with directions.   
  
Every once in a while, Owen would pass a window as he walked. All the windows in this tunnel-like hallway were on the left side, the right side having been built against a mountain, overlooking the main resort. Directly below was the Visitors Center; The park was currently closing, and crowds of people flooded out of the main building and began their walk back to the boats or hotel.   
  
He slowed to a stop in front of one of the windows, and careful not to touch the glass, he leaned forward. The vista was expansive and wondrous from this vantage point. He placed one hand on the nearby wall for support, and a small smile crept on his face as he admired the view.  
  
Street lights and stores began to light up as the island dimmed slowly and naturally, by the setting of the sun. To the right, some jungle could be seen, and Owen swore he noticed movement in the brush. Probably not dinosaurs of course.  _Obviously they wouldn’t let them just run free._  Owen squinted, shaking the ridiculous thought from his mind.  

He took a step back, and stretched, standing up tall and curling his arms over his head. His body felt cramped up from walking all day, and he would’ve given anything to sit down and finally do this interview. The guy he was late meeting was Vic Hoskins, the Ingen head of security at Jurassic World. It had been about two days he was living on the island when he got a call from him. There was a very high priority project going on, and in hopes of gaining a co-director, Hoskins wanted to speak with him and introduce him to the subjects and information.

  
All of that sounded great, but Owen wasn’t entirely sure what drove the man to contact him in particular. However, desperate for a decent job, he was absolutely excited, and agreed to meet with him here at the main laboratory.   
  
He turned back towards the end of the hall, and began walking again. The ceiling lamps were harsh, and he noticed them get brighter as the island got darker.  
  
His sigh faded into a low growl like noise in his throat, which turned into a tedious yawn. He shook his head to clear away his sleepiness, and slowed to a stop at a set of doors. This must’ve been it… the room he had spent all day looking for. On the other side would hopefully be the lab, where of course, all the magic happens. The dinosaur stuff of wonders that drew tourists, young and old, to the park.  
  
He took a deep breath, and pushed the double doors open. As they separated, revealing a dim blue-ish office, the light from the hallway seeped through; it doused the dark, almost moody room, in white light. He slipped through the entrance quickly, the doors closing with a soft click behind him.  
  
Directly in front of him, was a desk with a couple telephones and computers; their cords wound messily into a hole in the table. To his right, a couple rooms with glass walls, and charts sitting neatly against the doors of these rooms. The air felt warm, still, and thick; Owen knew enough about birds and reptiles to know this climate was probably for their benefit, and for the incubation.  
  
Steps echoed down the hall to his left, and a shorter but larger man strolled gregariously out of the shadows. He was wearing some sort of business outfit: A tie draped down across his chest, but was poorly tied, and his dress shoes clicked and clacked annoyingly. This guy looked a little too excited, especially for Owen’s current mood, and just the look of this guy didn’t sit right with him. Owen aggressively avoided eye contact, but despaired as he realized this man was indeed coming for him.  
  
“Owen Grady?” he said, reaching out for a handshake.  
  
The realization hit him upon hearing the man’s voice, and he felt a pang of guilt for trying to ignore him just moments ago. This man was Hoskins! Owen’s eyes widened, and he met Hoskins’ handshake firmly. “Uh, Vic Hoskins?”   
  
“Yes, we spoke yesterday on the phone. I’m glad you could meet me here, to discuss, uh…” He paused for a moment. They both had ended their handshake at the point Hoskins found the right words. “Our top-secret mission.” He chuckled.  
  
Owen subtly wiped his hand off on his jeans, and returned it to his side. He hooked both his thumbs under his belt loops, and looked Vic in the eyes, nodding. He felt a bit more awake now, as he stood there casually.   
  
“Yes, sir.” He said respectfully. “But I’m sorry for being so late, I wish I’d’ve been able to find this place sooner.”  
  
Hoskins shrugged almost violently, “No, no, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it! I bet the walk sure was something… At least you got a chance to tour the park!” Owen grimaced and shrugged. Vic’s words turned into a friendly, but forced laugh as he slapped the the ex-Navy man’s shoulder. “The point is, you’re here now, and we can begin.”  
  
Owen gestured to his right at the high tech equipment. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what’s going on. Your call made it sound pretty damn interesting!”  
  
Hoskins chuckled again. “Well, that it is, Owen. We’re happy to offer you the job.” Hoskins seemed to mimic Owen’s casual stature. “I’ll tell you all about it, but please, you have any questions?”  
  
–  
  
Vic Hoskins showed the man around the lab for a few minutes. The place was pretty much empty, besides a few scientists and staff members working the graveyard shift. There was a conference room, a couple labs, and those windowed rooms Owen had seen earlier. He spent a couple minutes of watching personnel work from afar, before asking a staff member about them; they said that they were hyper insulated, and basically for the purpose of young hatchlings stretching their legs for the first time.   
  
“To test how they deal in a semi-open environment?” He said. His arms were folded across his chest, but he otherwise appeared very open and interested. His inquisitive tone shocked the scientist, but she seemed happy to hold an educated conversation for a little while.  
  
Owen often got distracted by all the technology, but tried his hardest to absorb as much as he could. Slowly, as he explored more of the lab, he began to understand the intricacies of Jurassic World and it’s attractions. He felt like he must have looked like a little kid, as he took witness to baby Baryonyx in one of those windowed rooms. Hoskins was a bit surprised to see Owen take as much interest as he did, but he was appreciative none-the-less. After all, Vic admitted, he couldn’t understand half of this science stuff.  
  
Hoskins stood off in one of the corners, while Owen asked a couple more questions about the hatchlings. The Baryonyx’ were quite bitey, but showing impressive strength at 2 months old. They’d be moving out to the park soon; apparently they’d be housed at a new river attraction opening in the center of the island.   
  
Eventually, Hoskins regained Owen’s attention, and this time he got a bit more to the point. He lead him to another lab, the doors sliding open smoothly in their presence. The two of them wound through a couple desks and chairs that were scattered about the room. Out of all the labs and hallways and conference rooms, this one looked as though it was the most active; open yellow folders and buffering computer screens made the room look like an organized disaster.

  
There were some “Staff Only” doors to the right, and in the center of the room was an illuminated cylinder pod. As they approached, the air got exceptionally warmer, as it did around these vessels. This pod was exactly the same as the others; this would of course, be another dinosaur incubator.  
  
Owen walked towards the high tech object slowly, his steps quiet as he moved with purpose. Behind the glass was a sight that, once again, took his breath away. Out of all the animals he’d seen this last hour, these were the most interesting.  
  
Three young and fragile dinosaurs, of a more lithe stature, cuddled together under a dimmed lamp. Through the glass, he could hear the sound of vents fanning hot air into the mini habitat. Their skin looked dark but thin, having not yet developed those tough scales, and their breaths were quick and shallow. Surrounding the three, were light patches of foliage dotted around the sand and dirt. They rested under the shade of a couple large leaves that arched a couple inches above them.  
  
Owen Grady felt his heart slow, it beating in his ears with noticeable volume. About four feet off the ground, there was an outcropping around the vessel, that appeared to be used as a counter the staff members left notes on. A couple sticky notes reading things like, “V1-B breathing well. Keep an eye on her.” and “Growth rate normal - 5” long as of last night.“ were stuck to the smooth surface. He gripped the edge of the counter, and leaned forward, almost pressing his face against the glass. He watched them for a few seconds before turning back to Hoskins.  
  
"What kind are these?” He said quietly.   
  
Hoskins was standing a couple feet away, his smile was dark and proud. He spoke as he walked toward the pod, eventually stopping beside Owen. “Well, Owen, these are why I brought you here. They’re Velociraptors…The park’s first.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen and Hoskins have a conversation about practicalities in the presence of three sleeping raptors…

Owen blinked at Vic, somewhat confused, as the words processed in his head. Based solely on assumption, he had figured there would never be Velociraptors in Jurassic World. Raptors were infamously quick and clever, and in consideration of previous dinosaur incidents, it just didn’t seem advisable; he never thought breeding more could be a smart idea. Yet there they were, living and breathing in the tank before him. As a teenager, he spent hours of his free time researching the animals, simply because they were so interesting. Admittedly, they were his favorite animal for a long time. But as wondrous as it was to see them in person, an apprehensive knot tied in his stomach.

“Well, what do you think?” Hoskins’ voice echoed excitedly.

Owen shook himself from his daze. “Is there…a plan here? I mean, you know what they’re capable of, right?” He looked Hoskins in the eye as he spoke. “It can’t be smart or safe to have them on the island.”

Hoskins turned his head towards the incubator, his eyes squinting thoughtfully as he spoke. “Well, what we’re planning won’t be easy, but I think you’ll find the project worth your effort.”

He remembered that on the phone, Hoskins had mentioned a secret project that would be held separate from other park faculties. Something that Ingen was doing on the side for research purposes. Despite not quite getting his question answered, Owen asked “What project?”

Hoskins had a winning glint in his eyes as he looked back at Owen. “I.B.R.I.S. It’s an Ingen funded study on raptor intelligence, that hopefully, you’ll be a part of.”

Owen looked back at the raptors. They were still sleeping soundly, warm and safe in their mini habitat. “But what do they have to do with me? I’m still not clear on my purpose here.”

Vic beckoned him over to a desk with chairs on each side, so they both could sit. He rolled his chair over a few inches to reach inside a drawer, and pulled out one of those bright yellow folders. Owen got comfortable in his seat, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward. He was trying to read the upside down words in the folder, but didn’t get very far before Hoskins spoke again, shoving the folder in Owen’s direction.

“We know they’re smart, but our grasp on that is limited.” He put simply. “You’ll be there with me, getting hands on with them - we’ll be partners in this. Our goal is to see how far we can get with, uh…” He trailed off.

Owen scanned the papers diligently. Words like “exercising command” stuck out to him, and it all seemed very unreal. Getting “hands on” seemed like an understatement; it’d be more likely they’d lose their hands in the process. However, being responsible for nature’s most powerful creatures would be quite an amazing opportunity.

With the folder in hand, he looked back up at Vic. “I’ll be…training raptors.” He got a little excited as the words left his mouth, but forced himself to relax. There were too many reasons in his mind that made this sound like a horrible plan…and yet, Owen hoped he was right. He hoped that he’d be able to work with these animals in any way.

Hoskins clicked his tongue. “Yes, you got it - well it’s sorta -”

Owen cut him off, the speculative part of his mind taking over. “With all due respect, I see the effort you’ve put into this, but it seems… well, impossible.” He said with an awkward chuckle.

Hoskins pointed a finger at Owen, and then at the papers. “Well thirty years ago, we would’ve said making dinosaurs was impossible too!”

“And twenty years ago, these animals were responsible for multiple casualties.” He said; his tone was edged as he leaned back in his chair. Hoskins frowned, looking dejected. “Excuse me,” Owen pushed his chair back and stood up, turning towards the pod and taking a couple steps away from the desk.

Hoskins got up too, and took striding steps after him. “Just…hear me out, alright? Hear us all out, because I swear it’ll be worth it.” He said. There was a tone of confidence in his voice, but Owen, looking back at him, could sense insecurity.

Owen’s mind raced over possible pros and cons; raptors were smart, they could escape, or plan an attack on staff members. They were lethal at eight months, which wouldn’t give them that much time to figure everything out: their behavior, their eating schedules, and growth rates… On the other hand, this study would be beneficial to Jurassic World and Ingen’s profit. And above all else, there was the pull he felt to those animals that lay sleeping in that incubator.

A couple conversation starved moments passed, before he spoke again. He let out a rumbling sigh. “Okay… yeah, I’ll… come back tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it more."

The words processed in Hoskins’ mind for a few seconds. "Okay!” He said, a little louder than he really needed too. Owen cringed, his eyes flashing back to the pod. The three hatchlings were still asleep.

The two of them spent a couple more minutes in that room together, exchanging contact info. Hoskins passed a copy of the I.B.R.I.S. Project folder to Owen, which he carried in his hands the whole way back to his hotel room. He tried to read it in the glow of each lamp he passed, but couldn’t get very far with how quickly he walked out from under the lights. There were a couple janitors he strolled by apprehensively, nervous they’d stop him assuming he was a straggler guest. However, they must’ve figured he worked there as well, because they let him go with nothing more than a quizzical glance.

After about thirty minutes, he was back in his room. He threw his wallet somewhere in the couch’s direction, and sat the yellow folder neatly on his bed. He had been nicely accommodated with a paid-for resort suite, which he had access to for the next couple days; just long enough for him to find a place to stay, which Owen might’ve had figured out. In the folder was mention of living space near his place of work that would be convenient for traveling between those parts of the island, which was a pretty good selling point for him; after living at his mom's for the past couple weeks, and before that having lived on a couple different Navy bases, he was excited to get a place of his own.

But this hotel room was about the nicest he had ever been in; it even had a dishwasher, for some reason. He felt grateful that he was staying there for as long as he was. He had received an excited email just yesterday from Mr. Masrani, the current CEO of Jurassic World, that was quite friendly and inviting of Owen’s presence. Now, it was probably a template email that got sent to all new employees, so he didn’t bother to respond, but he was appreciative none-the-less. _Maybe I should respond,_  Owen thought, throwing his stiff dress shirt and jacket off his body, and across the room to the general area of his suitcase. After all Masrani did seem like a nice guy.

He read more info from the folder before bed, and learned some interesting facts. The earliest data was entered around the beginning of the year, somewhere in February; something about research and DNA scanning. The “hatchlings” had actually hatched about three weeks ago, to Owen’s surprise, though no one in particular was present for their birth. He smiled as he read about V1-A’s first teeth emerging slightly, and -C’s talkative nature, her letting out a few nasty screeches a couple days after hatching. He read everything he could find about -B, after finding out her weak breathing which was due to a shrunken lung that was discovered a few hours post her emergence.

He found himself digging through the pages for any pictures, or documents about their intellect or behavior. It seemed the three of them were quite close; if one sibling was being examined, the other two stood against the glass in their pod, barking for the staff members to bring her back.

He told himself over and over not to get invested, and had to cut himself off when he realized it was almost midnight, and that he’d spent almost an hour reading. He turned off the lights, and sat the folder beside his bed, stringing his phone charging cord between the papers to keep his page.


	4. Chapter 4

_Owen spends his afternoon at the lab, in hopes of some enlightenment._

* * *

 

It was somewhat drafty in the lab that day. The afternoon had brought an intense heat that warmed the sidewalk outside the Visitors Center as Owen entered. But now, he cut his way through crowds, weaving through the hundreds of guests that occupied the building. His brand-new keycard ID he received just two days ago, was wrapped with a braided blue fabric around his neck.

The doors and halls that lead to the incubators were much more active in the day, as he had learned during his last few visits. It was clear that tours were often conducted here in the lower levels of the lab; glass walls separated visitors from staff hard at work with their newest assets, and many guests watched in awe of the warmly lit dinosaur eggs being observed closely by the men and women in lab coats.

The walkways wrapped around the inner workings of Jurassic World, in a tour that took about thirty minutes to explore the length of. Owen hadn’t had the chance to take the tour himself, but at this point it didn’t seem necessary. He turned right at the base of the hall towards a Staff Only door, and knocked lightly.

With his keycard, he was allowed to carefully walk through the incubating rooms as a shortcut to the upper level. Many of the staff guarding the doors gave Owen an apprehensive once-over before scanning his card and letting him in, but generally he had no trouble. He figured he likely didn’t look like someone who was allowed in the lab, but after verifying his code number, his t-shirt and shorts only caught a couple concerned eyes.

Once he was granted access, the polished room extended further on his left, the space being filled with incubators and the occasional note taking technician. Quickly, he snaked his way through the room, making it to the stairwell at the back of the lab. He jogged up the stairs and exited at the second floor. The door opened to the long hallway, and he turned right towards the second lab. Though the AC blew a pleasant breeze through the hall, a sunny warmth beat down on him through the windows on his left. His pace slowed as he reached the double doors; he brushed himself off a little before pushing them open and entering.

He found this room to be a little busier in the day, compared to the first night he visited, but not by much. From his vantage, he could count about thirteen staff workers and suited sales directors currently in the lab, but the others were likely on break.

The more highly regarded assets, such as Velociraptor and other carnivores, were hatched and raised here. The Baryonyx, from last Owen checked, was growing at her normal rate, and was recently moved to the Environment Stimulator. The EnviStims, as they were called by staff, were those little windowed rooms located adjacent to the incubators. Looking off towards the Baryonyx’s room, he made a mental note to check up on her when he got the chance. He gave the receptionist, who’s name was Holly, a slight wave, before passing her on his way to the raptor incubator.

He braced himself for the inevitable interaction with people as he opened the door. It closed behind him with a loud clunk, and a couple scientists and technicians looked up with a start, obviously shocked by the man’s sudden entrance. However, the ones who were familiar with Owen’s presence quickly shot him a smile, and a quiet greeting.

“Hey, Owen.” whispered Valerie, a behavior specialist he had met yesterday. She was leaned over a counter in the center of the room, mapping some info out on a graph.

“Hi,” Owen replied quietly. They did their best to keep the volume low, especially in the afternoon when the three hatchlings were most often sleeping. Plus, they generally thought it was best to not disturb them with their presence. Owen thought that made enough sense to him, and respected their decision. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure if they were just joking with him, considering how loud the labs downstairs were. 

On his left, the glass cylinder stood tall housing the three chicks. David, a veterinarian, was standing by it taking notes; occasionally he’d look into the pod with a smile, and scribble down more info. After a couple minutes of Owen lingering around the lab and reading updated files, it seemed he had spent enough time glancing at the incubator for David to notice, and quietly he was welcomed over to take a look. He was certainly curious enough about them, but a level of exercised caution remained within him as he walked silently over to the incubator.

Owen approached, leaning over the outcropped counter to look inside the glass. Their bodies looked just as small as they had when he first saw them, but their scales looked a little tougher today. All three were curled up together under the heat vent, their flanks rising and falling gently in their afternoon slumber. Owen kept his breath short and his movements to a minimum, trying to avoid waking the creatures.

Upon closer inspection, the young dinosaurs truly did appear bird-like in structure - however toothy and scaly. The way their bodies curved, and with what lightness they moved about, seemed on it’s own to confirm paleontologists’ suspicion, if their avian nature wasn’t already considered a fact. Their eyes were shut tight, and two of them hid their heads under the necks of the sibling they were cuddling closest to. He had only ever seen their eyes once; -A’s were green, while -B and -C had amber and grey eyes respectively.

A couple days ago, when he visited after sunset, their slit pupil-ed gaze was wide with curiosity and excitement as they watched the outside world from their pod. However, as strong and adapted they were getting, they still looked quite frightened when getting handled by staff. When it came time to get fed, they huddled together and barked incessantly at the open glass window, as gloved hands reached in and dropped baby mice for them to eat. Over time, it also seemed -B tried harder to get food first, which now lead to her siblings stepping back as she ate her designated morsels. Whether it was out of respect or sympathy for their sister, no one was sure.

He continued watching for a couple moments before shaking himself from his trance, and turning away from the pod, shifting his gaze to David’s notes. Owen’s eyes squinted as he smiled, realizing the man’s “notes” were mostly doodles of the sleeping chicks.

“Cute,” Owen said softly, rolling his eyes. In the technician’s rendition, the raptors smiled with toothy grins, round bodies and closed eyes. He thought they were an interesting depiction of the theropods. 

“Yeah, well I got nothing better to be doing,” David chuckled, “And when they wake up, I probably won’t be able to get as close… You know, I’m not allowed to take pictures so…” He trailed off, bouncing the notepad between his hands.

“Mm” Owen grunted in response, that seeming like reasonable enough answer.

A couple moments passed, and Owen considered moving to a different spot, before the air was stirred again by David’s voice.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” Owen muttered, looking at the man.

“Are you scared of them?” David asked, nodding to the the glass pod.

Owen was caught off guard by the question, but quickly answered. “Absolutely.” In his head he pictured the violence caused by the Velociraptors in the past. It would be awfully concerning if the lab workers didn’t think they were dangerous. “Are you not?” His eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“No… Not really - well, I was asking because, even though they’re just little things, you don’t really seem to let yourself get too close.” 

Owen sighed, bringing his arms up across his chest as he thought. “I still think this is a bad idea.” He said quietly. He looked down for a moment to adjust his footing before looking back up at David. “And it bothers me Hoskins hasn’t been around for any of this either.”

“Yeah, I mean, at least you come in every day,” The veterinarian said; Owen hadn’t considered he’d been coming in  _every day_. Now it really did seem weird that he was so cautious. David continued as Owen’s embarrassment caused him to avert his eyes to the ground. “But I think everyone feels the way you do their first week on the island.”

“Oh yeah?” Owen muttered, not really believing it.

David stepped a bit closer, turning his back to pod, and resting parallel to Owen. Owen was not excited about the man getting so close, but tried to brush it off. “No, I’m serious,” David said softly, “When I first got here a year ago, I was terrified.”

“And that’s the problem; I just don’t see a lot of outcomes where this goes even relatively well.” Owen hissed, gesturing widely with his hand to reference the park.

David blinked at him, “I think you’re worrying too much…” 

Owen scoffed, hating that he wasn’t being listened to.

“To an extent, I agree, but how about this,” He began, “What are dinosaurs?”

Owen studied the man’s face for a moment, trying to figure if that was a trick question or not. “Animals?” He finally answered.

David smiled, “Exactly! And if you think about it, it’s just our job to feed them, and in your case, prepare them for an audience. I think you’re making a great point, but I think you’re coming at it from the wrong angle.”

“And what angle should I be coming at it from?” Owen was skeptical, however, this conversation  _was_  going a little better than he had anticipated. 

David turned around, looking at the incubator. “Well first off, just look at them.” Owen looked at the little raptors; they were still sleeping soundly, and he felt that familiar warmth in his chest that he felt when watching them previously.  

 _Probably from the heat coming off the glass._  He thought, lying to himself. He also decided that perhaps it wasn’t as necessary as everyone thought to be so quiet in the lab, considering how thick the glass was, and how loud the ventilation was inside the pod.

David turned around to look back at Owen. “They’re arguably adorable,” he continued, “And though they’ll grow into some of the greatest hunters in nature, they’re far from the first carnivores that humans have trained - or even just kept in captivity.”

Owen nodded subtly, looking at the ground as he processed David’s statement.

“I’ve taken care of loads of scary things: Full grown alligators…Bees… My own existentialism,” He said, laughing a little at his last example.

Owen laughed too, “I suppose…”

David seemed happy to have made Owen laugh. A couple moments passed, the two still awkwardly still standing next to each other before David sighed, “But that’s just… y’know, my experience. But if you want to see a change in how this operation goes down, that’s a change you have to make.” The man shrugged, looking the Navy-man in the eyes. 

“That’s true…” Owen said. He held eye contact for a moment before David’s expression changed from confidant to bashful grin. He scurried away stiffly, avoiding eye contact. Owen’s mind clouded and at a loss for words, he felt embarrassed again, looking away aggressively.  _That was gay,_ he thought, taking a moment to relax and think of a plan for the raptors.

He could see through the glass window at the end of the room, that the sun was lowering as the afternoon was coming to a close. The sky with wispy clouds turned a pale orange, and the trees outside bustled in the slight breeze.

Owen read his thoughts off the floor, still standing by the raptor’s incubator. Making his own change seemed like a good idea, however difficult. Though, he had no idea where to start. After some quiet minutes to himself, and only the sound of the heat vent to listen to, he decided that perhaps he had already begun, just by arriving so punctually every day.

However, his mind was still hard at work; he got up and walked over to a nearby desk and sat down, his legs tired. He grabbed a notepad, jotting down things he wanted to bring up to his co-director when he got the chance. If  _I get the chance…_  He supported his head with one hand, his body somewhat slouched over the desk, and wrote down discussion topics with the other. It wasn’t often Hoskins was into talking about behavior and long term plans; the man seemed more interested in Owen’s military history, those conversations often going something like -

“So, how long were you in?” Vic said with a grin, his stance wide and mimicking authority.

“What?” Owen said, clearly distracted by the feeding taking place with the raptor chicks.

“The Navy,” 

Owen looked at the man, “Huh?”

Remembering that conversation taking place shot guilt through him for not paying attention to Hoskins. However, the look on the man’s face when Owen had no idea what they were talking about, was laughable in retrospect. 

Owen took a big breath, pushing his chair back and standing up to stretch after having spent an hour in the seat. Behind him the sky was dark with twilight, and the nocturnal theropods seemed to stir slowly behind the glass. -B brought her head out from under -A’s neck, and her amber eyes blinked sleepily.

Owen smiled at the sight, his heart swelling. That was a feeling he couldn’t deny. -B cocked her head, letting out a deafened chirp at him through the glass. He turned to sit back down, happy that he had a chance to see one of them awake; though with how long he’d been here already, it seemed likely he’d be around till their next feeding time at 7 PM. It was currently 6…

He still held by his truth that the Velociraptors were dangerous; the destruction and panic caused by their incalculable intelligence was nothing to take lightly. But even then, Owen felt it unfair to call them evil. They lived in family packs, raising their young to adulthood and protecting their eggs through any means required, as proclaimed by Dr Grant in a statement about his Isla Sorna incident. The paleontologist seemed hell-bent on defending the motives of the animals after once again experiencing them first hand back in 2001, as long as it didn’t involve praising the actions of John Hammond or iNGen. However, it seemed all statements regarding those events were nowhere to be found soon after their release.

Owen leaned back in his chair, setting his pencil down on the table. He was very clearly lost in thought, but could hear faint chirping as the hatchlings awoke in the dark of night. There was something special about the raptors; he could understand why they needed to be explored and studied. On the other hand, it would be too easy for it all to fall apart. Owen’s responsibility to train them seemed like an idea that was pulled out of the ass of someone too cocky for their own good.

But raptors weren’t monsters, and never were. It’d be foolish and ignorant to see them as such, especially now.  _They play and eat and sleep like any other animal,_  he reasoned, recalling the sight of them resting peacefully in the warmth of the pod. He knew if he continued the job being afraid of what they might do, all three of them would be able to sense Owen’s insecurity.

There was no doubting his own anxiety about the job, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t care about it. As crazy as it was, it might work.

Even if it might not, it has to.


	5. Chapter 5

_Owen finds a place to stay._

* * *

 

Owen looked from wall to wall of the empty apartment, the light from the back windows shining into the main living room. The weather outside was cloudy and every few minutes the sun would shine through a part in the blanketed sky, but the air was still and no rain fell. As he walked further in, he could see the parking lot below from the second floor; it was spotted with clusters of trucks and cars, all the spots closest to the building had been taken.

Owen rolled his eyes, and turned away from the window to take a better look at the apartment. The walls were white with fresh paint that burned his nose, and the floor was covered in a rough carpet. To his left, a small tiled kitchen with an island glowed with overhead lights, and just beyond was the bedroom and bathroom. Spacious and even somewhat extravagant in places, the space would be perfect for most.

“How many people live in this building?” He apprehensively asked the man who was leading him to the around compound, despite knowing he wouldn’t enjoy the answer.

He was sharply dressed with a smile and name he had introduced himself with earlier, but wasn’t memorable enough for Owen to recall. “Well, you have plenty of neighbors if that’s your concern.”

Owen let out a huffy sigh. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He muttered to himself, thinking of how obnoxious loud neighbors can be. He wandered into the bedroom, his windbreaker jacket shuffling quietly as he walked. The room smelled like air fresheners and bleach, likely coming off the bed sheets, which looked stiff and scratchy.

He felt discomfort rise in his chest as he looked around. Everything, including the man, looked artificial and made his eyes feel dry. Even the hotels and the main park upheld a certain aesthetic, but a clash of too many things at once, or in this case, too many people living comfortably in one building at once, seemed claustrophobic, not to mention annoying. As much as he appreciated what this building achieved, and the consideration it would take from major players like Masrani to fund this, Owen was never a fan of unit living.

Through the wall of the bedroom, he could hear ecstatic voices and loud TV.  _What are these walls, paper?_  He frowned, feeling a little bemused by the entire situation.

He walked out and was greeted by the man’s glimmering white smile once again. “I trust everything’s to your liking?” He enquired with confidence.

“Uhh…No. Not really,” Owen grunted.

The man looked taken aback, his eyebrows furrowing in subtle confusion. “I don’t understand. Is there anything I can have fixed for you?”

“Do you have any rooms that don’t have anyone living next door?” Owen said, looking off distractedly as someone’s headlights poured in through the back window.

“Erm, no, all the vacant rooms share walls… I’m guessing you’re not too excited about that.” He said, folding his arms behind him.

“Do you have… any other place?”

“Not this far East. The apartment buildings are large, but few and far between to house as many as possible in each sector of the island.” He admitted, leaning over a little to observe his cuffed pant legs. He looked up after a moment with a weird look in his eyes. “Well…actually, there might be another place,”

Owen’s posture straightened with the pleasant surprise. “Okay,”

The man took his phone out of his pocket and began tapping and scrolling in the search for something. A couple seconds passed before he found a phone number and began to copy it down on a piece of paper. “Now-” he began, handing over the paper. “Just tell him your name and ask about the lake. If you decide you’re more interested in this place, we’ll hold on to the apartment for a couple more days, so you can just come back,” There was a sympathetic dullness in his gaze as he spoke that made Owen nervous.

As he left the unit and got back in his rental car and made the call, a confused sounding voice picked up on the other end. “…The…lake?” They said, the sound of the turn signals clicking in Owen’s other ear as he replied. They made plans to check out the other space the following day.

“Yes,” Owen sighed.

“Are, uh…all the apartments taken or something?”

–

 _Getting around this island is proving to be a huge pain in the ass…_  Owen thought, slouching back in his car seat. The windshield wiper clunked loudly from left to right in front of him. Outside, Ten off-white Jurassic World vans passed him on the intersection; dripping with the rain, their bright yellowy headlights cut through the mist ahead.

Surrounding his vehicle were dirt roads shrouded in low hanging trees and foliage, and it seemed you didn’t have to go far from the main park to be overcome by wildlife and dense jungle. However, despite the rugged untamed look of this path, it was quite crowded, being often used to furtively transport goods for distribution out of the view of guests.

As the vans passed ahead, he shifted into drive, and turned right on the intersection. The rain hit lightly with quiet taps against the windows as he drove; he cracked them slightly, and the leather seats began to spot with raindrops.

He had been driving for an hour, and if there was one thing he didn’t expect to deal with when leaving the mainland, it was traffic. The roads twisted and turned around valleys and mountains in ways that drove him completely in the wrong direction for about half of the trip, and additionally he was getting increasingly more frustrated each minute he spent stuck at an intersection. Driving was difficult enough with the heavy rain and loose soil roads; it didn’t help how convoluted the undeveloped paths were. It all seemed ironically inconvenient, but of course it wasn’t too much for him to handle. Every so often, his car ran over rough dirt or moss covered rock, causing it to bounce slightly as he drove.

When he got the car for traversing the park’s confusing underbelly, the lady at the rental counter told him it should take about half an hour to the get the lake on the East side of Nublar. However, emphasis was on the “Should”, which Owen didn’t pick up on until now. He reached his hand towards the black dashboard of the car, and clicked on the radio. The sound of quiet Spanish chatter filled the front seat, but he could only understand bits and pieces…

Another twenty minutes passed as he drew closer to his destination. This road, despite being visibly more overgrown, appeared to have recently been driven down according to the fresh tire tracks ahead. There was a landlord of sorts waiting for him at the lake where the bungalow was located, but Owen would’ve been happier to explore the place on his own if that was only advisable. The landlord’s was a necessary involvement, considering their job was disclosing info about vacant lots, and telling him the ins and outs of the bungalow he’d heard so little about.

From there, it was a straight drive down the narrow road to the lake. Weeds and grass grew up from in between the heavy tire tracks ahead, and Owen spent the last few minutes psyching himself up for conversing and answering questions with confidence and ease.

The surrounding area turned from low undergrowth to high growing trees with stretching umbrella like limbs as the road widened to a clearing. He slowed to a stop beside a smaller black car that glistened in the rain. Ahead, the grass grew so tall it reached up the stairs to the small brownish bungalow and up around the tires of the car. To the left, just behind the building, sat a white-ish trailer with black stripes coming off the front. In comparison to the bungalow, the trailer was severely lacking the same coziness, but was still charming. However, Owen didn’t remember reading about the extra living space in the email portfolio he read yesterday.

He could tell by the quiet patter of water hitting the car’s roof, that the rain had slowed significantly.  _Just in time, too,_  he thought. He grabbed his baseball cap, released the keys with a click, and opened the car door, stepping out into the wet plain of grass. Before closing the door, he reached in to the passenger’s seat, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on quickly.

He lumbered out into the clearing, the air thick with humidity and the smell of wet grass. Looking just a little to his left, a large green tinted body of water could be seen. He shot a wave to the driver’s window of the black car, and through the tinted window, the man inside could be seen fumbling with his note pad and quickly flattening his clothes and coat, before opening the door and exiting the vehicle. His hair was grey and ruffled in the breeze; he might’ve been somewhere in his forties just by estimation.

Owen reached back behind him to pull his hoodie up over his hat, further insulating himself from the chilly rain. “Hi there,” He said with a nod as the man approached.

“Good afternoon, Mister Grady,” He began; the man looked stiff and tired in the eyes. While Owen was appreciative to hear his name said with respect, being called mister or sir was never something he was super excited about. He considered offering a more casual reference, but the man cut him off. “I’m Ron Simon. How was your drive?”

 _Two first names, huh?_  Owen gave the man an awkward grin. “It was great,” He muttered in a low voiced lie, not feeling like getting into it.

On the other side of the dark sedan exited a dark haired woman who was zipping up her neon colored puffy coat. She stumbled a little through the grass, before finding her footing and making her way around.

Simon looked back towards the young woman and gestured with his pen. “That’s my protege, she’ll just be following us around.”

“I’m Kisha,” she offered in a bubbly voice. The woman’s laid-back nature and extravagant fashion quickly made him feel less uncomfortable.

Simon pulled his notepad out from the inside of his coat, doing his best to shield it from the rain with his arm. “Let’s get right into it… The land includes what you see here, the driveway, up to the dock,”

Owen looked around the man to see the dock; rickety with old warped wood, it stretched just a couple yards out into the water, including a nine-foot outcropping. At that point he’d spent long enough looking to notice how impressive the lake actually was, reaching what looked like miles away, and connecting into rivers and streams that flowed from further inland.  _Oh shit, sick._

“And from that tree line, to… basically that one - I won’t get into numbers since it’s complicated, and you don’t have a single neighbor.” Simon gestured from a line of short pretty shrubs located on a hill to the left, to the undergrowth and jungle trees on his right. They crept from the dip of wild grass, onto and over the lake’s shore, that rippled as rain drops hit its surface.

Owen looked up into the clouds for a moment, letting the rain hit his face. The sky was a light grey, thick storm clouds covering it for miles. Having grown up in scorched Arizona, he was always partial to a little bad weather every once in a while, especially with it being calmer now than it was while he was driving.

Simon put the notepad back under his jacket and pointed to the dark brown bungalow, “I’ll let you check out the living space and wander around. Just watch your step.”

Owen nodded in response, following the man as he walked towards the center of the clearing, Kisha shadowing as well. The three of them dodged around a tree that grew a couple feet from the stairs and reached up with dripping leaves and relatively low hanging limbs. The stairs were wide but slippery, their textured wood pooling water in the gaps and divots; Owen’s boots had enough traction on them, but he warned Kisha to be careful going up the steps.

At the top, a couple windows and a single door were faced on the front of the building. More puddles gathered on the porch, splashing quietly beneath the three’s shoes, as Owen curiously followed the walkway around the bungalow. It stopped about halfway, only reaching across the right-most wall and around the back side. There was a shelf and a storage crate resting against the outside that looked like it was water sealed.

 _I could keep tools in here…_ He thought, running his hands across the plastic the shed the water off its top. He greatly enjoyed tinkering with vehicles and electronics, and he knew from experience that things like power tools took up a lot of space. Once I get tools, at least.

The party made their way to the front door, Simon grabbing the key from his back pocket and opening it with a creak. The party made their way inside, shaking the water off their coats in a dog-like manner, and removing their hoods and hats. They reveled in the shelter the bungalow gave from the wet chilled breeze, as Owen took in the surrounding visual.

The bungalow was one large dark room, a little bit bigger than a shed, in exception of the bathroom that jutted out of the farthermost wall. The floor was a flat wood-like linoleum, pale brown in color. On the right and left were two windowsills that overlooked the lake and clearing, letting in the only blue-ish grey light. Also to his left was a bed frame resting against the wall, and a desk with narrow metal drawers. Directly in front of him, a small kitchen with black appliances and a two sided sink that shined in the blue light was placed in the right corner. Aside from that, the building had a decent amount of space and was curved at the top with a slanted ceiling that donned a single hanging lamp. However, it was more of a single light bulb than a lamp. As he stepped forward, dust wafted against him, causing him to sneeze loudly.

“Bless you.” Kisha and Simon said in almost unison.

“Thanks.” Owen replied with a groan, his whole body feeling the shock of the sneeze.  _Jesus, I’m like an old man…_

Simon walked past the two of them towards a light switch, giving it the old college try by clicking it on and off about three times. Still doused in the subtle darkness, he turned back towards them, unfolding the notepad from under his jacket. “Yeah, no power yet. We can get it working by tomorrow afternoon, though.”

“Alright, that’s fine.” He said, squeezing his hat in his hands as he explored a little further. The bathroom was about six square feet, barely fitting the shower against the wall, and the toilet about three inches from the sink.

“Just don’t use the toilet, though, the water’s not running yet.” Simon hollered from the main room.

Owen frowned, “Uh, okay…” He shouted back, rolling his eyes. _Why would I?_

He looked into the mirror in the back wall of the bathroom, and he caught a glance of his appearance in the nearly pitch-black room. His hair was wet and somewhat streamed onto his face, but not by much. He thought for a moment he needed a haircut before rationalizing that everyone’s hair looks longer when wet. Despite that, his current lack of facial hair made him look more like he was getting his learners permit today than renting a home.

Owen rolled his eyes and stood up straight, deciding he looked fine enough; whether or not he passed wasn’t worth the internal conflict. As he exited the bathroom, Kisha was looking over Simon’s notepad and folder, appearing to be reminding him of some things. They looked up as he re-entered the room, and addressed him quickly.

“So, what inspired you to check out this area?” Ron Simon asked.

“The apartments just weren’t my thing,” Owen answered after a couple moments, somewhat distracted by his enchantment and want to investigate everything a little further. After a few minutes of Owen pacing back forth through the bungalow and eyeing the amount of free space, Simon encouraged they move on to discussing other things, such as costs. However, the conversation was short, on account of the free living on Isla Nublar aside from food and better cable packages. Owen noticed the satellite dish on top of the bungalow when he was outside, but as tempting as it was to climb on the roof for any reason, he would probably never use it, not being super big on watching TV.

They all pulled their hoodies back on and made their way back outside with resilience to the cold air. Simon was at the head of the group, making his way down the steps with ease, but Owen’s boot slipped on the slick wooden stair, missing a step before catching himself on the next one. His heart pounded as he tried to continue nonchalantly, but he could tell Kisha saw it perfectly well and was stifling a chuckle.

As he reached the bottom, he turned the corner and began circling the bungalow’s perimeter with distracted disregard to Simon’s posed questions. The whole building was about four feet off the ground at its highest, and the ground around the clearing tilted down towards the lake pretty significantly at this point. As he cleared around the back, he spotted a small tin bucket collecting the water that ran off the roof; it had likely been there for months however, as the grass surrounding it grew particularly lush and the bucket was over filled and spilling with each couple drops. He picked up the cylindrical tin delicately and took it to the lake’s edge to dump it out before returning it to its home. This was received with an odd look from the man and woman who were still standing by the stairs.

Owen strolled back to the front of the bungalow, “Sorry, I think you were sayin’ something, yeah?” He said with a deep breath. He heard the call of a couple birds in the distance as he spoke.

“Oh, yeah, you, uh-” Simon mumbled, holding his notepad loosely with both hands in front of his waist, “-Actually like this place, huh?”

“Yeah.” He said quietly with a smile. Kisha chuckled and Simon looked at her and Owen in disbelief. “How old’s this place?”

“Not very; about 4 years ago it was built by a guy who was doing electrical work on the monorail over West of here.” Owen nodded, remembering driving alongside one of the monorails for a bit on his drive to the lake, as well as riding one when he first entered the park. They were enormous and strongly built, stretching hundreds of feet off the ground and transporting guests with articulate speed. “-It was a wreck; the whole thing was down for months! But a bonus: your paddock is only a couple minutes’ drive from here,” He pointed further East, “Just up there by the cliff side and the shore.”

Owen whistled; he hadn’t considered where the raptors would be houses once fully grown, but the thought of watching them run around in their own habitat made him feel happy. Plus, the shorter and less hassle of a commute across the island, the better. “Sounds good to me.” He chuckled, shuddering as, for a moment, the wind blew particularly strong.

Simon and Owen exchanged paperwork that needed signing between the two of them, including few agreements about the ownership of land and where the boundaries were located. The man informed of a relatively nearby attraction that was opening called the River Cruise, running along the water that through streams and creeks, connected to the lake at some point. However, due to the distance and relative seclusion within the valley, Owen was informed it wouldn’t get within a mile of his land. “Just something to be aware of.” Simon shrugged.

“There aren’t any other attractions nearby, right?” Owen asked. He was already happy with how quiet things were out this far from the park, and it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable with the hollers of guests sounding out nearby.

“No, no, if anything, you’re relatively close to the old T-Rex paddock, but nobody’s doing anything with that anytime soon…” He said, “And even that’s about the same distance as the River Cruise.”

Owen signed his name on the papers and wrote his phone number, as well as his ID number on the files. “I gotcha.” The old T-Rex paddock sounded interesting, and he considered doing some poking around up there at some point if it wasn’t a restricted area.

“Another thing,” Simon began, flipping his pen around his hand and catching it as he spoke. “I wouldn’t totally recommend swimming in the water, because as a natural lake it’s kinda dirty, but if you want to, there’s no legal reason why you can’t. Fishing is fine too, as long as you have a permit like you’d need anywhere else. Also, those over there.” Simon pointed past the pale trailer and towards the skinny shrubs that lined the boundary to the forest beyond. “Naturally, they’ll get plenty of moisture when it rains, which it does regularly on Nublar. They’re around a year old- the guy who lived here last planted them- but you have to water them during dry seasons or heat waves, which…also happens regularly on Nublar…”

Owen felt a rising ambition to take great care of the young trees.  _This place has everything!_  He thought, making a plan to include watering plants to his phone’s calendar.

“Alright,” Simon looked excited to get back in the car, as he put the pages and forms back in his folder. “That’s that-”

Taking a glance back at the bungalow, he noticed the glistening white trailer, that Simon seemed to actively ignore throughout the tour. There was something about it that drew his attention, perhaps because the man avoided it so persistently. “Wait,” Owen cut him off, “What about the trailer?”

Ron Simon looked at the trailer with squinted eyes and a grimacing sigh. He flipped through the file on the land, which was littered with notes attached by paperclips. “Uhh, so…okay, it’s unlocked, and since you live here now, it’s yours, but…the guy who lived here before brought it here, and didn’t take it or any of his stuff when he disappeared.” He explained with a shrug. “Nobody really knows where he went, and nobody’s gone in there to clean it either…we weren’t prepared for anyone to be interested in living here anytime soon.”

Owen’s eyebrows raised, “What happened to him?”

Simon shrugged again, looking off towards the trailer. “Like I said, nobody’s sure.”

“And his stuff’s still in there?”

“Well, we assume…”

Kisha interjected, nudging Simon’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, you’re really selling this place.”

Owen let out a breathy laugh and said “Well, that’s pretty gross but I’ll take it,” finding it both funny and crude. He actually  _was_ excited about the idea of the extra space however and hoped it wouldn’t be too much trouble to clean out. Even if it was a mess, so was he and he was in no place to judge.

Simon grimaced, tossing his files somewhere into the open car door, and reached out to shake hands. Owen obliged as the man thanked him for doing business with him. Kisha gave him a friendly wave as she got into the passenger’s side, and Owen made the effort to smile and wave back.

The sun was lowering slightly in the sky as the two pulled out of the clearing and left for what Owen assumed was home. He walked over to the edge of the water and sat down, the grass bending out from underneath him and arching over his shoes. Once again, he took off his hood and hat to enjoy the cold rainfall on his head, that was only a mere sprinkle now. He had only been on Isla Nublar for a grand total of eight days; those raptors were growing stronger, and while he hadn’t been able to stop in and see them that day or the one before, his thoughts were always on them and their health.  _Wherever this paddock is,_  he reasoned, _it better be pretty tall to keep those girls in when they get to jumping three times their height._

However, as much as Owen thought about their care, his co-director seemed distant most days, not showing much effort to understand the animals like Owen did. Maybe it came from a place of confidence, but he couldn’t imagine in the zealousness Vic spoke with, there was actual experience with the dinosaurs themselves. Though through some conversation, Owen found out that Hoskins was actually in charge of recollecting the dinosaurs on Nublar to be used in the park’s attractions back when Masrani Global first acquired the islands for commercial use. The man went in depth on the mission to capture the wild T-Rex, that they subdued with nets and tranquilizers one stormy night all those years ago. Owen was impressed in ways, but disturbed in others, internally considering a way they could have made the same achievement without causing so much stress on the Rex.

Aside from that, Owen often felt unheard and lost in his discussions with Vic. Plus, it seemed like he had some hidden expectations that Owen just couldn’t figure out. The whole experience was exhausting and frustrating, but if nothing else, he had the raptors he could look forward to seeing. They were recently moved into the pale green and comparative openness of the EnviStim, and he could tell how happy they were to stretch their legs and click their sickle claws on hard ground. They stood about 4 inches tall and were healthily plump and well fed. Owen smiled at his last memory of the three of them, running together in a circle around the room and pouncing as high as they could.

Coming out of his trance, he leaned forward, putting his hands under the lake’s surface to test the temperature, which was pleasantly warm despite the chilled air. The sky was turning a dark blue, and through the shifting clouds he could make out the moon, that grew brighter as the sun set behind him. He’d have to make his way back to the resort soon, but as he rested for a few moments longer, he felt halfway content, filled with a sort of peace invoked by the nature around him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Quality time with the raptors puts Owen in the presence of a superior._

* * *

 

It had been two weeks since Owen moved into his bungalow on the East side of the island. The air was still and stuffy, but filled with muffled chitters and scratches coming from the lab’s EnviStim. On Owen’s left, small - but swiftly growing - velociraptors could be seen through the two-sided mirror fitted to the wall. The glass was tinted, but the flashes of grey scales dashing to and from each end of the room were clear to see. Owen smiled, excitement and nervousness prickling through his body.

With the exception he wears gloves and other protective gear, Valarie informed him that he would be permitted to some hands-on time with the V1s. The small dromaeosaurs reportedly had a tendency to bite and dig in with their toe claws, so denim pants and leather gloves were a requirement.

The gloves were of a thin cow-leather, strong enough to provide some resistance to the hatchling’s strong bite. However, Owen was a little sad he wouldn’t get to touch their scales; he played with the idea of taking his glove off once inside and out of the lab workers’ sight.

With so little staff this afternoon, it wouldn’t be hard to sneak something past them. Not even David, who boasted about being at the lab more often than Owen, was there.

“You work here?” Owen said with a laugh.

“Excuses, excuses.” David had replied jokingly, returning to his note taking that day.

But now the lights were dim, and the blue screened computers and blue-ish lights tinted the whole room prettily. Despite some anxious first couple weeks working on Nublar, and the long commute, the lab became increasingly more of a comfortable place to be. Even the days he didn’t see the raptors in their rambunctiousness, he felt as though he’d made friends and his words were taken seriously.

Hoskins seemed to be visiting more often now, and Owen couldn’t figure out whether that made him happier or not. His demeanor seemed to shift recently, which came off as untrustworthy; some preach about “advancing” and “making progress” that sounded as though it was ripped from a Masrani Global or iNGen memo, and knowing the security manager’s personality, it likely was. But despite the man’s words, he didn’t often stay interested in the lab workers’ reports for very long.

Owen washed his hands thoroughly, drying them with a scratchy white and blue towel. Each EnviStim was equipped with a small buffer room between the lab and the actual dinosaur containment. Having entered the room just moments ago, Valarie was preparing to grant Owen access to the three hatchlings.

“Are you ready?” She asked, rolling her wheelchair closer to him with gloves in hand. “Don’t forget they can be bitey, the nasty little things.” Her words were tinged with affection; it seemed no one could help getting attached to the dinosaurs. “And remember, it’s best to get closer to the ground and let them see you. It makes them less scared.”

Owen nodded with a smile, slipping the protective gloves over his hands and moving with her to the card-and-keypad-locked door. Valarie swiped her ID and entered the six-digit code. The door unlocked with a hiss, and the woman rolled back away from the door. He shot her a nervous thumbs-up before cracking the door just enough for him to enter.

The first thing he saw was an empty room, but quickly, as his eyes adjusted to the low light, it was clear he was surrounded. Loud screeches erupted from the small raptors, as they all ran forward and bit at his pants.

“Alright, alright!” He gasped, leaning closer to them with a happy glimmer in his eyes. The raptors ceased for a moment to get a look at their visitor. Stepping back, it seemed they knew Owen meant them no harm, but were still frightened by his sudden presence. He looked back at the two-sided mirror, making a motion to Valarie, asking her to turn the lights up a little, to which the room lit up slowly.

As the velociraptors became more visible, -B stood at the head of the pack, giving a high-pitched gurgle to Owen. Her scales were a dark, but dilute, brown and shining amber eyes looked up at him expectantly, before she gave a bark to her sisters. -A and -C were similar in color to -B, but with minor differences; as the firstborn, -A could be picked out of the three easily, simply by her size, and -C’s blunter jaw, which curved at the end of her mouth, made her the most uniquely built. The hatchlings were last recorded at four inches tall and eleven inches long, which Owen decided seemed accurate.

The two flanking dinosaurs fell back behind -B as she called to them, and Owen felt a subtle warmth build in his chest. At only three weeks old, the raptors already showed intellect and skill. Obviously, their technique needed improvement, but their minds and claws would only get sharper

Owen got down on a knee, his lips curled in a goofy smile. For a moment, his brain was absent of Hoskins or the strangeness of his vision and ideals.

-B looked up at Owen, taking in quiet huffy sniffs as he got closer. Her sisters closed in as well, examining him closer, and tugging gently – but with strength - on his clothes. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed by them. They all looked as though they were a miniature version of frightening; small pearly fangs, beady slit pupils, and strong, lanky legged bodies brushed against him at all sides.

He reached out to touch -B and without hesitation, she clamped down on his finger. Owen flinched, forcing himself not to instinctively pull away; -A and -C didn’t seem to notice the attack and continued sniffing at Owen’s legs. -B’s eyes locked onto the gloved hand, and with every wiggle he gave to coax her release, she only gripped tighter. The bite didn’t hurt, the raptor’s teeth only scratching his skin, but the fact she didn’t let go was causing a subtly rising anxiety in him.

“Alright, c’mon,” he pleaded. -B’s tail thrashed back and forth as she breathed a hum-like growl into Owen’s hand. In an attempt to control the situation, he brought his other hand forward to grasp the raptor’s jaw and force it open. The humming -B saw this coming and immediately whined to her siblings, who both ran to her side and pulled hard on the glove. Their combined strength was startling, as Owen was pulled forward onto his left hand and both knees. Moving swiftly, he reached forward and unhooked the Velcro strap that kept the glove secure, releasing himself from the raptors’ grip.

They tripped backwards, pulling the glove along with them. -A fell to her side, tugging it along and pulling her sisters to the ground with her. All three let out happy chitters as they tugged the glove around, tossing it to different corners of the room, and now, ignoring Owen completely. He stood up, backing towards the door as silently as possible.

 _That didn’t go well…_  He thought, brushing his legs off awkwardly. Watching for a few minutes longer, the dinosaurs just didn’t seem to get tired of their new toy. -B climbed inside of it for a few moment, before peeking her head out and looking at Owen with a hum-like chirp. -C attempted to rip pieces off the glove, most likely because she assumed it was food; however it did not give, much to her frustration. She laid on it like a cat rested its upper body on a toy, and Owen wished from the bottom of his heart that he could take a picture.

He began looking around for the first time since he entered the room. The enrichment in the room was slim to none, including a couple potted plants and jungle sounds playing over a speaker. On the far left, the floor gave away to lower platform filled with a fluffy mulch substrate. There was a counter and sink in the corner for filling bowls of water, and a couple children’s toy-esque platforms for the hatchlings to jump up on. Obviously, the EnviStim had some room for improvement, and Owen couldn’t help but feel a little less excited for the raptors. However, the creatures themselves appeared to be enjoying their time there.

With a smile, he lowered himself to the ground again, catching the attention of the velociraptors. So they didn’t like to be touched. He could work with that. Never in a million years did he imagine he’d get this close to such interesting and intelligent animals, and while he still had an underlying layer of fear when around them, it was worth it for the experience… and economic security.

The three dinosaurs bounced forward, sniffing at Owen’s boots once again. -B sneezed and he replied with a quiet “Bless you!”

-A’s pale green eyes gleamed up at him. She cocked her head, and Owen did as well. They all seemed curious about him, as though they weren’t used to people staying in their space for this long, which from Owen’s experience of watching the lab workers, was certainly true. However, they seemed to welcome his presence.

Putting one hand to the ground and being careful to not kick the small dinosaurs, he sat comfortably on the ground, his legs in front of him and hands close to his body. As he moved, the raptors leaped backwards, screeching at him in confusion before settling as he did. -B scuttled in closer to his legs, watching him carefully as she approached. For a moment, Owen was nervous she’d decide to bite into his thigh, but she never did. Seemingly enjoying his warmth, she laid down against the outside of his leg, and the other two followed suit.

-B snored with a vibrating hum that was the loudest of all of them. “What  _is_  that noise you’re making, Bee?” He asked. Calling the raptors by their file names was becoming increasingly more discontenting. -B could always be Bee, considering she buzzed like one, but what about the others?

-A’s glimmering green eyes reminded him of something sour or bitter, like a wedge of lime on a cold beer - but perhaps Wedge would be too cute of a name. He considered it as one of the options, along with Tango or Twist. -C would be a little harder to figure out, but Owen decided he’d have plenty of time to figure things out with her.

Owen spent the next fifteen-or-so minutes with the velociraptors, before checking his wristwatch - one of the more organizational items he owned - for how much time he had spent with them. Deciding it was time he went, he gingerly broke contact, not waking the two leaning on his leg. It was lucky he’d been allowed this time with them in the first place, especially considering Valarie was helping him sneak in, and overstaying his welcome was not his intent. After all, he had other things to do today as well, and at this rate, he might never leave.

Stepping away, his boots made a quiet click as he approached the door and left, looking back one last time. The raptors were curling close together in their slumber, and seemed undisturbed.

Opening into the dark buffer room, the door fell closed, locking behind him. Shockingly, Valarie was no longer in sight. Confused by her disappearance, he lumbered out into the lab.

As it was before, the lab was dark and empty; a desolate blue and grey space that smelled like static electricity, which was a scent that frequently and upsettingly stuck to Owen’s clothes. The outer lab was way less lively in the afternoon when the dinosaurs slept, which was fine with him. Slipping off the remaining glove and turning right to a nearby cabinet, he decided to clean up his things and check out.

“Grady?” A voice asked on his left.

Owen looked over his shoulder to see an approaching slim man with black hair and a lab coat. His arms were flat against his sides and his demeanor was relaxed, yet there was something about his aged face and dark eyes that indicated a cunning intelligence.

“Call me Owen…” He said, looking curiously at the man. He was obviously in charge of something, but while familiar, Owen had not met him personally before.

“Owen,” He began, addressing him with formality. His voice was low and calm. “I’m Henry Wu, I created the genome for the raptors by hand 23 years ago. Of course, minor modifications had to be made to perfect them in the time since, but raptors have always been interesting to work on.” He said, seemingly making an attempt at humility.

Owen nodded in response, shifting his own disposition to a comfortable near-silence and stepping away to place the glove back in the drawer by the EnviStim door. Henry Wu’s name had been passed around a couple times since he had arrived at Nublar, and it was no surprise why. Wu had been an important part as the lead scientist of the Jurassic parks since its beginning in 1993, but had more recently been trusted by Simon Masrani to lead the new park’s bioengineering.

“You’re the one Hoskins hired, yes?  _Co-director_  of the I.B.R.I.S project?”

He stood up straight, turning back to Wu and meeting his eyes with respect. “Yeah,” He murmured, shaking the scientist’s hand. “Y’know, I’m surprised I haven’t met you yet.”

“As am I…” Wu told him, looking comfortable. “Well,  _not met formally anyway_ , I of course approved your paperwork for clearance into the lab a long time ago, but perhaps we work on different schedules. I have been awfully busy lately.” He offered.

Owen moved around Wu to place his jacket on a nearby counter. “So how come you’re meeting me now?”

Wu’s eyes followed as Owen moved across the lab, cleaning the things he’d left out. “Call it a lucky accident, perhaps.” Owen doubted that was true; he couldn’t help but feel the situation was orchestrated as he scanned the man’s eyes. “But it’s interesting that you found your way into the EnviStim.”

“Oh, shit.” Owen said, eyes widened. Of all times to meet someone in charge, it had to be when he was breaking rules. Most of all, he hoped Valarie wouldn’t be in trouble for helping him sneak into the restricted part of the lab. Maybe if she had left soon enough, Wu didn’t even see she was involved in Owen’s sneaking around.

Wu chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “You can relax. Valarie told me everything before I let her go for the day, and I understand why you wanted to get closer to them. The decision seemed questionable at first, but if you’re to be training the raptors, as Hoskins says, it makes no sense why you should be excluded.”

Owen sighed, most of the tension leaving his body. At least he didn’t have to be concerned about getting fired by the boss, but he still wanted to leave and go home. It was currently empty of most furniture, but the warm and quiet bungalow was waiting for him and he was exhausted.

“So, what did you think of them?” Asked Wu with a curious but subtle grin.

Owen squinted, trying to pull the right words out of thin air. “Um…they’re interesting. Not hard to work with, but they keep surprising me.” He said with raised eyebrows and a smile.

“That’s to be expected.” Wu told him with a grin, “They’ve always exhibited extreme intellect. Even so soon, I’m sure you’ve noticed them planning attacks.” He gestured with a pointed finger to the EnviStim.

“I guess that’s what I’m scared of.” Owen chuckled, looking down at his shoes.

A moment passed, and he felt as though the conversation was coming to a close. However, something was sticking with him. “Do you think it’s possible? Training ‘em?” He asked, brow furrowing. If there was anyone to ask about his concerns, it would be Wu.

Wu wore a smile that said Owen had asked exactly what he wanted him to, to which Owen felt regret for the question. “Well, I… certainly would’ve never considered it.” He said looking to the ground. “iNGen has always given me great opportunity-”

Owen cut him off, “But it seems a bit farfetched.” In all honesty, he agreed. He wasn’t sure it could be done either. Containing the creatures would be a task in-and-of-itself.

“Raptors show great intelligence. Training them is certainly an experiment I support.” He said matter-of-factly, his voice stern. “My concern is with the people training them.”

Owen flinched, not exactly offended, but confused.

“It’s concerning that you so quickly assume it cannot be accomplished, while a man like Hoskins controls everything and so boldly assumes it can.” Dr Wu said, unfolding his arms, and holding onto the counter behind him.

Owen shifted his gaze to the ground as he listened intently to the man’s words; he understood what Wu meant, though. Hoskins seemed a little too sure of a lot of things, and it was easy to pick up on his brash and disconcerting confidence. However, Owen was on the apprehensive side of the whole topic, which was also easy to see.

“But in seeing you now, I found out exactly what I wanted to.”

Owen looked back up at Wu, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “And what was that?”

The tension left Wu’s face. “You  _learn_ … In fact, I‘m quite interested to see how you take this responsibility. It takes a certain kind of adaptability to work with velociraptors, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. Adaptability that Hoskins doesn’t have, despite his insistence.”

“Thank you, but… I don’t understand.” Owen said, carefully choosing his words.

Wu paused, his expression unreadable, “I’ve been working in his presence for many years, Owen. His ideas are strong, but his execution is weak and often times messy. I would be careful around him.” He spoke slowly, holding his hands together.

“What do you mean?”

“He has a strong personality that works to his benefit. He has done countless things for this establishment but if you don’t show initiative, Victor Hoskins is a man who will enforce dominance to get what he wants.”

Owen felt bewildered, the words resonating in his ears as if he’d heard them before. Perhaps that was something he always knew, but even so, the way Wu shared the information sounded like a warning. He looked through the man, processing his thoughts on the subject.

Wu floated around the room, following up on the newest notes surrounding the hatchlings growth. He seemed approving and even made a couple comments to Owen, to which he responded with no more than a word or two. The rest of his time with the man went by quickly; Owen left the scientist with the raptors, grabbing his things and parting ways with Wu. It wasn’t long after that, he left the park and was on his way home.

 _Home,_  He thought. Owen had always drifted around in adulthood; it wasn’t hard for him to get attached to a new place. The bungalow was one of his favorites so far though, and he had plenty of plans for rustic decorating. The trailer was another story altogether, just existing as its own disaster aside from home, and he wasn’t quite sure what he’d be doing with it yet.

Once again, he ground below his wheels turned to mud, as he rolled over jutting rocks and around mountainous hills. About an hour into the drive, his mind couldn’t help but slip back into the conversation he’d had with Wu. Owen sighed; it was as if there wasn’t a single normal work day here at Nublar.  _What did he mean by “be careful”?_  He thought.  _And how exactly do I go about that?_

Owen hadn’t considered those questions during their exchange, all of the info seeming simple enough at the time, and maybe it still was… Hoskins simply needed a strong co-director who could match his expectations. But how far would his expectations go?

Rain began to trickle from the sky as he parked by the lake. It was about 6 PM, and with exhaustion aching in his muscles, he walked up the bungalow stairs. The lake was lit a dim pink as the sky glowed with a pale orange haze. The surrounding jungle felt heavy with humidity. Once inside, he fell with a thump on his bed.


	7. Chapter 7

_Owen meets some co-workers as a disaster throws them together._

* * *

 

The ground in the clearing was made up of gravel, like the surrounding area of most paddocks, and crunched under his boots as he stepped out of the vehicle. Several other cars were parked against the edges of the clearing, and under pitched tawny shades, sat a group of people, seemingly on break. He closed his car door behind him with a clunk, and stepped away.

The job required he work with others at the paddock who would assist with feeding and caring for the raptors. Today, Owen planned to meet his co-workers and get an idea for who he’d be dino-wrangling with. Somehow he was supposed to be an authority over them, but his own worming nervousness to meet new people was still a sensation that buried itself deep within him. Luckily, it was buried so deep, that at this moment he could barely notice it. He tried to keep it that way.

The walk was short and the sun glimmered beams of light into his eyes, which made it hard navigate, until he reached the shade cast by the paddock. Lumbering forward, he could see that the workers taking their breaks under the pitched tent had noticed his arrival. They had an uncomfortable look, eyes shifting and hands unable to find their places, that made Owen concerned. However, he continued his approach, a skeptical look on his face.

They didn’t speak up right away, as he slowed to a stop outside the tent, so Owen took it upon himself to break the strange silence. “How’s it… going?” He asked, their weirdness seeming to rub off on him.

“Howdy,”

“Hello, sir,”

“Uh, good!”

They all chimed in. There were about 16 workers, men and women, all different ages, shapes and sizes. They looked experienced; some were obviously builders with bruises and heavy set bodies, while others looked more like the animal handlers he’d seen on Nublar, with scarred hands and bright eyes. He’d always enjoyed speaking with animal handlers the most; their optimism was a refreshing change from the usual seriousness that prefaced his discussions with everyone else.

Owen’s eyes followed as a man stood up who looked like a mixture of both. He was short but weighty, strong armed but bearing an attempted warm expression, unlike the others who looked nervous as all hell. “You’re Owen?”

Owen’s eyebrows raised, “Yeah, did you know I was coming?”

“Uh… Sorta! Hoskins said you’d be working with us, but we had no idea when you’d be coming down.” The man put his hands on his hips. Behind him, a couple people exchanged knowing glances; Owen could tell there was something, a joke perhaps, that he was missing out on, but he tried to brush it off.

He relaxed, putting his weight on one hip and crossing his arms. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been real busy with the raptors -” he looked down to see a couple ants climbing his shoes. He shifted his feet, hoping to release them. “-At the lab, you know, there’s a lot going on…”

Everyone in the group flinched at the mention of the dinosaurs, their eyes widening and busy hands, once fiddling with tools and equipment, paused. They were silent for a moment, and Owen wondered if they were apprehensive about breeding velociraptors as well, but very quickly, questions arose from all of them.

“How big are they?”

“What do they eat?”

“Yeah, have they tried to kill anyone yet?”

Shocked, Owen struggled to keep up with the noise, unsure of most of the questions, but trying his hardest to slow them down. He put his hands up, gesturing for them to stop, “Alright, I don’t know everything, so just go one at a time.” He raised his voice over the chatter. They remained quiet for a good time.

“…Are they big?” A young woman’s voice eventually picked up over the silence..

“Not yet. They’re a bit taller than your ankle; they’re just a couple weeks old… about a month now…” Owen replied quietly, scanning the group. He tried to keep his answers simple and to the point. The people cracked little smiles when they heard how small the dinosaurs were, which he had realistically expected. It  _was_  ironic to see them at such a minuscule measurement.

“They dangerous?” The man who greeted him asked. Everything fell silent once again, the only sound being the nearby crashing waves and the insects that pelted the forest with their calls and chitters.

Owen looked at him, unsure of how to answer that. He had spent a long time this past month deciding that for himself and there was no straight answer, especially when no one has taken time to study these creatures. No one until now. “Not yet.” He answered bluntly. “They will be, though…”

Moments passed before another man chimed in, “Well I suppose that’s what we’re building this big-ass paddock for.” A couple others chuckled, and Owen nodded, craning his head to look at the huge octogonal structure.

Though it was a little overwhelming at first, at least he was lucky to have such an eager group. They all looked interested and however unprepared they were in reality, they seemed confidant. Behind him, the paddock was coming along nicely; thick stone walls and metal bars faced the outside walls on a few faces of the structure. Other segments were unfinished, leaving exposed wiring and sharp metal edges where it would be easy for accidents to occur. Owen nervously brushed this off as a  _work in progress_ , and turned his attention back to the group.

There were a couple fold out chairs and tables standing under the shade, and upon walking father inside, he noticed it was a lot like one of those tents you’d buy fireworks from in June and July. He wrinkled his nose; it smelled a lot like one too, likely scents coming off of the power tools and everyone’s overheated bodies. Secretaries filled out paperwork and took notes on the progress of the RRA. Workers cracked open coolers filled with ice, cold sodas and the occasional store-bought bag of apple slices. Others went over models and drawings of the paddock with each other, adding extra doodles and discussing details amongst themselves.

“Hey, Grady, come check this out.” One man said.

Owen walked over slowly, looking over the drawings that depicted the RRA from a birds-eye view. Two thickly drawn lines crossed the center of the paddock in an  _X_ shape. On one side, an extra jutted out section of the main octogon was drawn, with scribbles that said “ _secondary gate_ ”. Near that, was a small office and other parking spaces that lined the paddock. It all looked great, excepting one corner of the page, on which someone had doodled a smiley face that looked suspiciously phallic. Owen rolled his eyes, and the man, now realizing what Owen had noticed, quickly attempted to erase it.

“Whoops, sorry, that’s not what I called you over for,”

A woman who was sitting nearby, obviously knew what the man had referenced and laughed a little. Owen smiled, returning his attention to the paper as the man shed the erased led from the sheet. “Okay, so-”

“What’s your name?” Owen asked, unintentionally cutting him off.

He paused. “It’s Ben.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an architect,”

Owen nodded. “Okay, go ahead…” When he was a kid, he considered being an architect, but realizing how much math it involved turned him off of it. He was never fond of math. However, he still found architecture very interesting.

Ben continued excitedly, “So I was thinking we install a catwalk above the center of the paddock! It’d reach across from right here, and here-” he pointed to the bases of the paths that arched over the paper. “You could get a good look at the velociraptors from there, and keep an eye on them. It would be easy access with all four branches, as well as a path along the main walls.”

Owen nodded, “And what’s this?” He pointed to the outcropping that read “ _secondary gate_ ”.

“Um… I figured we should have a door that’s not as  _dinosaur-sized_. You know, in case we need to get inside.”

“Oof, good idea…” Owen remarked, having not considered that before.

“Well, most paddocks have them. This one will need a secondary buffer door as well-” he lightly dragged his finger across the outer square shape of the secondary gate. “-In case the velociraptors ever get through.”

“Sounds good…” Even if the secondary gate was a smart idea, the raptors were still more human-sized than most dinosaurs. How large did they grow again? Wasn’t it six feet tall? Owen sucked air though his teeth. “Yeah, sounds good…”

“So… Should we go through with it?” Ben asked.

Owen flinched, realizing he must’ve been in charge of that decision. How was that not something that was elaborated by someone else? Sure, he’s the co-director of the project, but he never considered that would leave him in charge of structural decisions. Owen was technically an iNGen worker, and therefore an authority on security…

“It’s already been okayed by Hoskins, but I just… wanted your opinion.” Ben seemed to notice the hesitance from Owen, and spoke up.

“Oh, then yeah.” He replied, awkwardly giving a thumbs up before crossing his arms again.

After Ben had finished, Owen asked about the “ _office_ ” he had seen on the paper. Reportedly, it was already in place. Built from recycled wood and furnished with junk from the island’s lost and found, it seemed like a place he wanted to visit. He wandered further around the tent for a bit, taking a bag of apple slices from one of the coolers and continuing his tour. Past what he recognized as the future location of the secondary gate, was an opening in the surrounding metal bars that rounded the West side of the paddock.

He stepped inside the guarded tunnel, the ground fading from hardened, sun-baked gravel, to soft mulch and soil. On his right, the metal bars guarded the paddock’s walls and gave him the occasional view inside. It was large and open, low growing plants surrounding the outer circles, but otherwise the ground was dry and flat. To his left, jungle could be seen though the second gridded gate as he followed the path. An office was at the end of the hall, the door made of a dark wood with a smudged golden knob. Jutting out as an awkward square shape, the rest of the office’s structure could be seen just through the metal bars. He turned the knob, noting its looseness in the door frame, and entered the dark room.

He was greeted by a breeze emanating from a ceiling fan, as he closed the door behind him. A window on his left with closed blinds let in the only light, shining on the spruce desk in the center of the room and a metal filing cabinet on the right wall. On both sides of the desk were office chairs, and on the wall behind him was a matte black coat hanger. He ran his fingers along the desk’s grain as he made his way to the other side and sat down.  _I work here._  He realized, reaching his arms out and touching each end of of the table with his hands.

When he brought his hands back, the tips of his fingers were coated in dust, which he wiped off on his flannel shirt. The office was nice, though it could be improved upon - particularly, he thought with a grin, a large pride flag on the back of the door. Things would be easier here than they were in the Navy, or at least he hoped they would. It would be easier to avoid folks with more “conservative” views when he lived in the middle of the jungle. The pink, blue and white of the trans flag would go nicely with the room…

The door cracked, letting in a wash of fresh air and sunlight from outside. An older man was standing in the door; his hair was greyed and long under his small sun hat. “Sir?” He positioned his glasses as he spoke, pushing them back towards his face.

Owen brought his arms closer to his body, sitting straight in the chair. “Yeah?” he replied quietly.  _Always with the “sirs” and “misters” around here…_  he thought.

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself, if you’re not busy.”

“Sure,” Owen stood to reach out for a handshake, which the man met promptly.

“I’m Earl, I’ve been working on the island for a little while, but somehow I got picked up for this raptor job… It’s a little crazy to imagine, inn’it? Training raptors?”

Owen’s gaze fled to the table and to his hands. “Yeah,” he thought of how quickly his life had turned from retired Navy man, to animal behaviorist. Things always did change fast in life.

Earl sniffed. “Y'know, you’re very different from that Hoskins guy. He didn’t listen much, but he sure liked to talk,” He chuckled.

Owen smiled, “Yeah, I’ve spent some time with him myself. Interested guy, but he gets the job done.”

“Well at least you’re patient, and we thank you for that. We’ve had a lot of barked orders and threats these days.” Earl leaned on the wall, propping his foot up behind him.

Owen frowned, “What do you mean?” His first thought was that perhaps the workers were being mistreated, but that couldn’t be right. Hoskins had been nothing but eccentric from the moment he met him, but far from threatening.

“Well…” Earl looked scared all of the sudden, as if he’d said too much.

Owen paused before opening his mouth to speak as a ringing alarm bell went off outside. It was muffled from so far away, but he recognized an alarm when he heard it. Cautiously, he rose from his seat once again, giving a questioning glance to Earl. Earl’s expression was dark as he opened the office door and took off. Owen followed swiftly, dropping his bagged apple slices on the tabletop.

Noticing the parking lot was a lot brighter than before, he was sure he already knew what had happened. Brushing sloppily through the gate’s entrance, he stumbled into the clearing. A fire had erupted on the far right side, and the workers in the tent had all ran out to observe with panicked eyes.

Owen saw the shorter man who was nice to him earlier, crouched on the ground. Obviously, he’d had music playing through headphones when the alarm went off, and was only now noticing the event. Owen moved towards him.

“Ah,  _shit!_ ” The man shouted, looking more disappointed at the rising flames than scared. “Again?” He scrambled to stand up, jogging towards the fire.

Owen was frozen with confusion. _Again?_  He thought. “Hey! How often does this happen?”

The man stopped, turning back to grit his teeth in a grimace. He looked like he might have a good answer, but as more things collapsed under the flames, he quickly turned away again, running towards the fire.

Owen looked around for a fire extinguisher, finding one resting against the nearby wall of the paddock. Heart pounding in his ears, he ran, grabbing the bright red canister from it’s holster. His feet slipped in the gravel as he picked up speed, taking action and readying the extinguisher for use, skidding to a halt beside the group that had now gathered around the flames.

The heat plumed against his face, his eyes drying; he tried to establish the source of the outbreak, but with it spreading, it was too hard to see. He shot the coolant halfheartedly into the buffeting fire, but it barely made a dent, only keeping the danger maintained on his own. On his left and right, workers shedded their flannels and coats, dropping them to the ground and stomping out the spreading embers with their boots.

“Owen!” The man called from the other side of the burning pile. “Toss it to me!” He clapped his hands together before holding them outstretched, ready to catch.

Owen hesitated, unsure of how much the man could make matters better, but he decided that there wasn’t any other choice. Gripping the half-empty canister like a football, he threw it to the other side. The man caught it, fumbling the mechanisms in his hands, and bringing down the fire with one fatal shot. From there, the rest of it was easily collapsed as workers gathered nearby water hoses and tarps that, together, suffocated the flames.

Everyone relaxed, the heat dying down and the entire group’s exhausted chuckles filling the air. Some looked disappointed, while others seemed to believe this was a job well done. Owen panted, holding onto the tarp and resting his upper body on what was left of the wood pile.

The man who put out the fire was holding the tarp on his end. He looked up at Owen with a tired smile, and reached out for a handshake. “I’m Billy. Thanks for helping out,”

“Thank  _you,_  Billy.” Owen murmured, gripping the man’s hand with a firm shake. The wood pile beneath him feel brittle and crisped, but almost pleasantly warmed him. However, it would be unusable in the building process now…

How could this disaster occur? And how could the RRA be a safe place for the raptors if this was somehow a regular thing? “How did this happen?” Owen’s expression turned, a dark look overtaking his relief.

Billy panted, “Hell if I know. We’ve been trying to fix that damn generator for weeks, but it keeps… Lighting on fire…”

Owen scowled, “So you put it next to a pile of wood beams?”

Billy’s voice cracked as he gestured towards it. “We bought a whole new one! I didn’t think it’d light up again!” The generator was a blackened box with no semblance of what it used to be. Owen looked at it sadly. Everyone was looking at it sadly, as though they were disappointed in its actions.

Owen pulled himself away, walking around to see the generator a little better. “Lemme take a look at it…”

 

-

 

It took them an hour or two of salvaging burnt parts and busted wires to finally establish the problem. A mixture of the wrong gasoline and overheating due to poor placement of the generator finally ended in the creation of an explosive device. Everyone took the blame, while Owen offered that they’d be better off powering the place through a junction box or a solar panel. “But, of course, a better generator certainly wouldn’t hurt in the long run, either.” He spoke into the phone. He was at the bungalow now, sun lowering on the islands horizon as he sat on his porch; birds were cooing their songs in the trees above as fireflies lit up the grassy clearing ahead. On the phone, was his friend, Barry. They had met while Owen was serving in the military, though by no means did they meet through the military. Barry was a french zoologist, currently studying animal behavior in his home country. They had years of history together, and Owen had been calling him every week since he landed the job on Nublar; his friend had always been interested in working with dinosaurs, but was too caught up in his studies and invested with family situations to ever consider making the move to the Costa Rican island chain. That being said, he was ecstatic to learn Owen had got a job working with velociraptors.

“Sounds like an interesting group,” Barry joked, his voice crackling as it came through Owen’s speakers. He never figured the audio connection from Costa Rica to France, where Barry was living, would be the greatest, but it was still disappointing.

“Yeah, I think they suit me,” Owen muttered, leaning back slowly onto the floor outside the bungalow. The sky was turning a deep blue that cascaded onto everything on the island. “But hey, I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “That Hoskins guy, I told you about him, right?”

Barry responded with a “Yes”-like grunt, the shuffle of papers scratching together accompanying his voice..

“…I’m worried about working with him. First it was just one guy telling me, and now…” Owen thought of the man, Earl, coming into the office, thankful for Owen’s patience. Owen didn’t even think he was acting patient. He’d spent the whole drive home trying to figure what Earl had meant, and only came to one conclusion. But if Hoskins was causing everyone discomfort, it wouldn’t be too out of character, based on the man’s usual… Enthusiasm.

Barry picked up as Owen’s words trailed, “I don’t know. Nothing you’ve personally seen from him indicates an issue, _but…_ ”

“Exactly. And I dunno whether to…” He trailed off again, not knowing exactly where he was going with his words. There wasn’t really an option besides seeing it through. Hoskins was his boss! He sat up, pulling one arm behind him to rub his back; it was sore after today. He was pretty tense. “You know what I’m sayin’.”

Things were quiet for a second before a sigh came over the phone. “I do… But I think you’re worrying more than you need to right now.”

Owen pouted, attempting to relax his body with a sigh, “I am…” A firefly landed on his boot, and he looked at it with a smile. It softly blinked its light on and off; he never had many opportunities to catch fireflies as a kid. He put the phone down, clicking it on to speakerphone, and gripped the insect lightly in his palms. He and Barry spoke for another hour, catching up on things before saying their goodnights and hanging up.

The evening ended quietly, beyond Owen tripping on his Navy bag as he tried to settle in for the night. Finding a comfortable place on the floor with a couple big blankets to sleep, he attempted an optimism for the following day. The wind grew strong as the hours passed, howling against his bungalow and keeping him awake for several hours.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! It's been a bit since the last update; I decided to take a hiatus after the release of Fallen Kingdom. What a doozy, right?! Anyway, chapters should be more regular now.
> 
> CW; animal death, and emotophobia

The air was still, subtle beeps and hushed voices filling the lobby outside the raptors’ lab. Owen was there with Hoskins, standing across from him. His vision was fuzzy at such a close proximity, but Owen did his best to focus his faltering gaze.

"She's what?" Owen asked; confusion clouded his stare as he looked at Hoskins.

"Subject V1-A stopped breathing last night," Hoskins' tone was matter of fact. He balled his fists and stood straight, but there was a shadow of nervousness in his eyes as he spoke. "But we're kee-"

Owen cut him off, a sinking guilt in his chest making him feel sickly and disturbed.  _"How?"_  Hoskins stuttered for a moment, but Owen continued. "Weren't they being watched? Who was in charge?" He looked past Vic, scanning the room's inhabitants for people he didn't recognize. Tension was building in his body, and his gaze grew clearer, though a headache was beginning to pound his temples.

"Owen, -A was weak from the start. She always had trouble breathing, remember?" Vic gestured towards the lab. It seemed he was trying to get the Navy man's attention once again.

Owen came to an abrupt stop, blinking at Hoskins before lowering his voice. " _Bee_  has the shrunken lung..." Was he getting angry? His voice was tinged with bitterness, and his heart pounded. His eyes stung, but was he actually sad? Whatever it was he felt, he was sure it showed. He gathered himself. "-B's okay, right?" He said, concern catching the words in his throat.

"Of course she is. -C is too. As I was trying to say, we're keeping a close eye on them." Vic seemed more relaxed with Owen having reigned himself in.

Owen sighed, his vision sinking to the floor for a moment. “I'm gonna see them,” His voice was flat

Vic stood aside, “Go ahead, champ.”

Owen paused, his insides turning over at the address. Something about it irked him, and as much as he wanted to rely on his boss for authenticity, Hoskins’ track record wasn't promising. He walked forward, stopping as Vic put a hand on Owen's shoulder to slow him.

“This isn't over yet, okay?” The man's voice was hushed, his eyes revealing little but determination. If anything, Owen was relieved to hear Hoskins acknowledging the situation. Perhaps this was the Security Director's way of soothing worries.  _Mine, or his?_  Owen wondered.

Vic's hands were clammy, leaving a darkened stain on Owen's flannel shirt. He acknowledged Hoskins with a nod and continued into the lab.

As he entered the room, sad looks dimmed the faces of the veterinarians. David’s face was blank, and he occupied his hands with the deposition of files. Valerie rolled solemnly away from her desk, approaching with a grim expression. Out of everyone he'd met on Nublar so far, Valerie could read him the most easily. She knew Owen was taking this hard.

“You look like you're gonna throw up.” She said quietly.

“I might…” Owen groaned. “There was only three of them to begin with - what if there's some pack requirement? I mean, from what I can find about the ‘93 incident, there were at least three raptors…” He found himself stumbling over words and incomplete thoughts just in the attempt to speak.

Valerie’s eyes were dull, and a sympathetic sigh escaped her as she walked closer. She reached over to place a hand on his arm, “This happens, Owen. I've been working this job for a long time…I understand this is upsetting.”

“Just…” Owen murmured, rubbing his temples. “Just tell me what happened to her.”

Valerie paused, looking apprehensive, before she began. The woman explained the evening, excluding no details about what had occurred, starting at with the day before last. -A had gotten sick that previous night, but there was no reasonable explanation as to why. She recovered quickly, shaking it off and moving on. Dr. Wu could not explain it either, suggesting that he stay to keep an eye on her. When that resulted in no further evidence of an issue, he moved on himself.

Last night, at 1 AM, -A showed signs of labored activity and shivers throughout her body. By 2 AM, the hatchling was resting in a corner on her own; -B and -C both attempted approach, only to be scared off by the weakened raptor. She hissed at them, exhibiting, what the technicians assumed to be, irritable behavior. “For all they knew, she had just tuckered herself out,” Valerie described. “They all seemed tired.”

Owen nodded, following along, “Sure…”

With loud, high pitched heaves, the hatchling vomited her food. At this point, the lab workers entered the room to clean and check -A. The workers recorded that her sisters all surrounded her protectively, and it was apparent that something was going wrong.

With consequence of a few nips and scratches, the raptor was removed from the EnviStim. She was kept under close observation, and it was at this point Valerie was involved, her having been taking a nap prior.

They placed her in the raptor incubator, isolating her from the other dinosaurs; panic spread though the room as -A vomited again, frothy bile leaving her body. They watched in horror, paging Dr. Wu immediately.

Another hour passed as medication was administered to soothe -A’s stomach and sedate her. However, the medications didn't act quickly enough; the raptor had emptied her stomach completely at this point, and was rejecting food or water. They ran fluids, attempting to rehydrate -A. Vets noted that her blood was unusually thin.

After a few hours, the sedated animal passed…

Owen's stomach flipped, his guts steadily twisting into a knot. His eyes scanned the floor, but as usual, no comfort was found there, and the juvenile velociraptor was still gone. Death had never been easy to deal with when it came to him. Like most people, he grieved by pushing his feelings away and stubbornly attempting to move on. He never really let himself feel grief. After all, Valerie was right; when sustaining the life of another animal, there was no guarantee.

He pushed air through his body, realizing that he hadn't breathed at all this whole time. In fact, he might have been blacking out a little. “Thank you for telling me.” He sighed.

Valerie nodded, and stayed in her place. She had a notebook in her lap that she was distantly tracing shapes in.

“I might stay here tonight.”

“That's fine, Owen.” She shook her head, “You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Owen's voice came out as a tired grumble. He was exhausted, but right now, he knew that if he left the lab and returned to his bungalow, that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He rubbed his eyes, walking across the room slowly. He made it to the buffer room door. His eyes had clouded and his mind was, very much so, elsewhere. If you had asked him, he would list off thoughts that blazed through his mind by the second. He turned, leaning against the wall beside the door.

Valerie rolled closer, her keycard in hand. “Want in?” She asked.

For a few seconds, her words didn't process in his head. He replied with a “What?”, before following that up with “Yeah.”

The door chimed positively, as the lock was undone and Owen was let inside. He didn't plan to go all the way in, of course, but just sitting by the two way mirror that peered into the room, sounded like a fine enough night to him.

Owen yawned a goodnight to Valerie, settling into the chair by the sink, and she chuckled in response. “Let me know if you need a blanket.” She seemed accustomed to late nights in the lab, and that was something the man appreciated her levity about.

“Hah, I will…”

As the woman closed the door behind her, the room went dark, and Owen turned his attention to the window. The raptors appeared to have heard the sound of the locks clicking through the walls, as they both perked up and lifted their heads. Indeed, -B was fine.

She paced the square room, her claws clicking quietly against the smooth floor. Owen watched the creature intently, noticing her labored breathing had recovered vastly in the past few weeks. As Vic said, -C was also alright; she was resting in a corner of the room, her breath quick and her sickle claws flexing.  _She must be dreaming…_   

He watched -B trot over to where her sister lay, and settle beside her. However, she remained awake, and stared cautiously at the door. Owen's mind was beginning to pick back up, as about 20 minutes passed of him keeping watch. He still didn't entirely understand what possibly happened, but as hard as it was to hear, none of the lab workers did either. It had only been a day since -A passed, so things could possibly clear up soon. Everything would be clearer in the morning - or at least, he hoped that was the case.

The dull hum of the air conditioning, and subtle beeps of distant computers served as pleasant background noise, to which the taxed Co-director felt himself slip into a light sleep. He woke up a couple times, hearing rustling from inside the room; the raptors were nocturnal, of course, and got a bit rowdy several times throughout the night. Owen wondered if they noticed the missing presence of their sibling, and as if it were a response, the hatchlings spent a lot of their time staring at the door. Owen felt his heart twist in knots, wishing he could go into the room and spend some time with the two of them.

Every few hours lab workers brought dishes of soft food into the EnviStim. The girls crowded around, even nipping at the pant legs of a seemingly-unbothered David. As the silver bowls were sat on the floor, Owen noticed the man popping open white and blue tubs, the labels of which his groggy eyes couldn't make out. He came to the conclusion they were some sort of supplements, as he watched David sprinkle heavy spoonfuls of it into the raptors' food. -C watched the tubs curiously, and after a quiet chitter was shared between the two of them, -B did as well.

David exited the EnviStim, locking the door behind him. Owen stretched, his shoulder blades cracking as he sat up straight. "Smart things, aren't they?" He said sleepily. "They seem real interested in those supplements, I mean."

The man sat the tub on the counter, and dropped the spoon in one of the sinks, it hitting the bottom with a clang. "I know right?" He said, running his fingers through his greased black hair. Owen shifted his eyes back to the window as the lab worker spoke. "Kinda scary, even…makes you wonder how much they know.”

Owen could hardly imagine the raptors growing into something deadly, even if, as young as they are at eight weeks, the girls showed some minor signs of aggression. Just a week prior, a worker was bit by -B, and as proud as Owen was that she showed that kind of strength, a visit to the Jurassic World paramedics was still necessary.

For a moment, Owen had forgotten the absence of -A, and upon remembering he felt his heart pang. The hatchlings were still huddled around their food dishes, but they finished quickly. Noticing there was one less bowl than usual, they both left behind small morsels for their missing sister. They expected her to return soon, as check ups, in which the raptors were removed for inspection, were common. They hopped around, chattering excitedly at each other, before they, and Owen, settled into a nap once more… 


End file.
